


Kiss in a Dream

by moodymarshmallow



Series: Frostiron One-Shots and Prompt Fills [6]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 15:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12015546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodymarshmallow/pseuds/moodymarshmallow
Summary: Asgard is beautiful, but what's better, the view or the Asgardian?





	Kiss in a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short prompt fill originally posted on my tumblr (vulpemarshmallow).

From Loki’s window in the palace, the view was stunning. Below, Asgard lay like an unrolled map, every twinkling light from every house visible, reminding Tony of the miniature Christmas village his mother used to set up every year. The view from that window made it easy to see why Midgard left Loki unimpressed. What did New York have that could compare to this? The gardens below Loki’s window stretched for a distance twice the size of Central Park and were filled with plants both alien and familiar, in as many varieties as a beach has sand. **  
**

“You’ve been looking out the window for an hour,” said Loki, his voice so distant that Tony turned, expecting to find he had walked out of the room. He hadn’t, but in the time Tony had been looking at Asgard, he settled himself into a bed that looked as though it were straight from a fairy tale; four-postered and canopied, with a headboard inlaid with delicate, gilded designs too intricate to decipher from the window. “When you said you wanted to see Asgard, I had assumed you meant to do more than just stare.”

The draw of the view was strong, and Tony gave the sparkling lights and distant ocean a parting glance as he crossed the room to join Loki. When in Asgard, Loki practically glowed, practically vibrated with joy and relief and belonging. But even there, he clung to Tony as if he expected him to walk away as soon as he let go, and when Tony joined him on the bed it was to covetous hands, to silk on pale skin, to an embrace that felt just like home.

“You’ve been so quiet,” Tony said, finally voicing the concern he’d held all day. When Loki touched him it was to put his hand on the back of his neck to pull him near, and Tony drew close without hesitation, his stomach fluttering at the sight of Loki’s half-lidded eyes. Loki was warm, and Loki was tender, and most of all, Loki was–as much as he could be–his.

_What does it mean to claim a god as yours?_

Tony started when he realized that hadn’t been a thought, but a question posed by Loki. The warmth of a sheepish flush crept up his neck as he tried to find the words to answer but Loki was laughing before he could speak. It wasn’t cruel laughter though; it was gentle, too gentle as Loki drew him closer for a kiss. Tony closed his eyes, sighing contentedly at the comforting familiarity of the way he kissed, in the way Tony knew Loki’s head would tilt only slightly, and in the way his teeth would inevitably find Tony’s bottom lip and tug, almost too hard, imparting the kiss with the tiniest bite of pain–just enough to make him dizzy. No matter how many times they had done this, no matter how close they had become, the same frantic, ecstatic butterflies burst to life in Tony’s chest when their lips touched. His hands were in Loki’s hair now, fingers tight around long locks, and he knew he could just devour him, and maybe that’s what it meant to claim a god.

When Loki pulled away, it was to whisper, “I’ve been quiet so you could sleep.” Loki kissed him again, this time the touch too gentle, too ephemeral as he drew back from him. Loki’s words fell like a foreign language on Tony’s ears as Tony clung to him, feeling suddenly as though if he let go Loki may just disappear. “I’ve been quiet so you could sleep,” Loki repeated, his lips close enough to brush Tony’s, his words like a warm breeze. “But I think it’s time to wake up.”

* * *

Tony’s eyes flew open at the sound of the alarm on his phone. He remembered where he was immediately: the Fairmont in San Francisco, penthouse suite, $18,000 a night and worth every penny, and only two blocks from the Grand Cathedral where yesterday he had attended the wedding of a long-time family friend.   

The fear of loneliness washed over him in a sudden wave, and he closed his eyes, licked his lips, and rolled onto his side.

With his black hair tousled and sleepy eyes lay Loki, elegant and perfectly in place in the most expensive hotel in San Francisco. Though he could only see him from the waist up, he knew he was naked under the covers, and that despite the illusion of sleepiness, he would be ferocious if Tony drew him near. 

“You did that thing with my dreams again,” Tony said, needing no answer despite Loki’s nod. “I wish you wouldn’t. You always seem so…”

“Distant?” Loki suggested.

“Something like that.” Tony stretched with a groan and moved to roll to his side, to sit up and start his day, but the gentle pressure of a familiar touch on his neck stopped him.

“I just want to show you what… what we should have,” Loki whispered, a near imperceptible bitterness in his voice as he drew Tony close for a kiss–a real kiss, morning breath and all.

“I kinda like what we do have,” Tony murmured when Loki gave him the chance to breathe again, cupping his cheek and stroking the line of his sharp cheekbone with his thumb. “When I’m awake, that is.”


End file.
